GRMM
by MrHost56
Summary: Gaetana Wilson Clark Scott - Rugo - Maree Baraeu - Michael Aelxander Wenston. Team Grimm.
1. Prologue

Dust, the weapon used by humanity to fight against the forces of darkness, monsters without souls. The Grimm. Combined with the aura of the soul as well as a weapon powered by dust one can become a powerful protector of mankind.

But what if someone did not use dust?

What if someone did not have a soul to project an aura?

Or even a weapon?

This, is the story of someone like that. Someone who uses rust, instead of dust.

* * *

The main hall of Beacon Academy lay in silence and in darkness, moonlight streaming through tall windows.

The eerie atmosphere was only broken by the sound of footsteps of Professor Ozpin, Beacon Academy's headmaster, taking a midnight stroll. His cane clicked against the marble floors he so vigorously cherished, but were such a pain to keep clean.

The headmaster stopped suddenly, in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee, his keen and trained senses picking up something that was not supposed to be here.

There was a burst of shadow, and a humanoid female form of a Grimm appeared. It held a small bundle in its arms.

Instead of attacking, though, Ozpin relaxed and smiled in familiarity. "It's been a while."

The creature chuckled with a raspy voice, "Likewise. The child has been completed, and his growth is exponential. When he was born his body was already a year old."

"Come, let me see him." The headmaster held out his hands eagerly to see the creation he had poured many resources into.

The she-Grimm went over to him and handed over the child, squirming in dark cloth. Ozpin looked at it with a twinkle in his eye.

"As expected, he will have the ability to fight like us. But there have been some... drawbacks." The creature shifted uneasily.

"And what would those be?"

"Well, unfortunately, he was born without a soul. So he cannot use his aura."

Ozpin waved it off, "He just needs to use a weapon, what type of dust could work with the b-"

"He cannot use dust."

The headmaster stopped, a new look of disappointment in his eyes. "So we failed."

"No, professor. We have actually created something... more powerful."

"Oh?"

The she-Grimm cleared her throat, "He may not be able to use dust, and thus not a weapon, or even his aura, but he can still fight like us. His body is strong. I tested his immune system with a small virus, and while his body suffered he acted as if nothing was wrong. The child has an amazing willpower, being able to block out pain."

"Hm. I see."

"But there is something he _can_ use."

"And that is?"

"The material that comes off corroding metals. I do not know why, but it matches him perfectly."

Ozpin nodded, looking to the small bundle in his arms with a new future in mind. "Looks like we can still have some use from you, little beast."

The child shifted in its sleep, unaware of its intended purpose in life.


	2. Both ends of the spectrum

On the outskirts of a small city, a young girl strolled along happily. She was adorned in a short plaid kilt with brown mud boots over green striped stockings. Her long curly red hair hung over petite shoulders where her long sleeved shirt did not cover, instead lazily hanging down. Her freckled face adorned an ear to ear smile, a twinkle in her green eyes.

Gaetana Wilson Clark Scott, a pure-blooded irish-scottish descendant form the Wilson Clark Scott family. She was one of the most cherished children from her family, due to the fact she was the only one to have succeeded with an education. She had attended Sanna Korset Academy at the age of twelve, excelling in all her classes but focusing in one area in particular. Grimm combat.

Ever since she had defeated a high level monster that had somehow made its way onto school grounds, schools from all over the world had been keeping an eye on her. Though one in particular had made an offer she just could not refuse.

Professor Ozpin had personally given her an invitation to Beacon Academy at her recent graduation, which she gleefully accepted.

Gaetana was currently celebrating that moment, taking a stroll on her favorite lakeside walk. The golden light from a setting sun illuminated the water and trees around her. It formed an painter's dream.

The young prodigy walked along cheerfully humming an old gaelic tune, one of her hands resting on the string of a recurve bow that was slung over her shoulder. The bow was a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. Gaetana had been the first female to inherit it. It was made from the wood of an old Arran Whitebeam, a very rare and valuable tree. It had been blessed by a priest and strung with the hair from a white stag. It was really, really old and really, really valuable.

The bow had gotten Gaetana out of many sticky situations, more than she cared to remember.

The girl eventually halted on the brick path, and looked straight ahead to two people up ahead. Her mood turned sour.

"Mother. Father." she spoke with a thick scottish brogue.

"Daughter" spoke a large, older gentleman dressed in a grey formal suit. "I see you're enjoying your recent... success."

"I am. Without you."

This seemed to hit home on the old man, as he stumbled a bit. Her mother spoke up, "We're sorry honey, but business has kept us from visiting lately. Your father's been trying as hard as he can."

It was here that Gaetana's frown broke into a smile, "I know. And I appreciate it. But right now I'm busy, so if you'll excuse me..."

The girl strolled past them with a contemptuous strut. The two watched their daughter walk away, feeling betrayed.

* * *

Many miles away, a very different scene was unfolding. A young boy stood on a balcony at Beacon Academy, looking over the same setting sun.

The boy, known as Rugo, wore dirty blue jeans over worn steel toe boots. Under a flannel hoody one could see a bare chest. The hood was currently drawn back, revealing rusty-brown hair and young yet aged face. His blue eyes looked like they belonged to an old man.

Rugo was not a prodigy, or an honor student, or anything of that sort. He had gone into training against monsters at a very young age, combat having been drilled into his heart and soul. It was safe to say that if you did not know him, a conversation would be over shortly.

He had been literally bred for the fight against the Grimm, which would make school life all that much harder.

"I probably should have made you get out more." came a voice from behind.

"Not that I would have done anything. I prefer to be in the arena. Or Emerald Forest."

Professor Ozpin walked up next to the boy, setting a hand on his shoulder, "As a father, I'm forcing you to socialize. It will be good when you finally work with a team."

Rugo shrugged off the hand, "I already told you, dad, I don't like people. My existence alone is beyond classified, so why throw me in a school full of a bunch of rich brats all of a sudden?"

The headmaster sighed and sipped his coffee, "Because we need you to learn how to act around people, in social settings. In case an assignment calls for it."

"Then don't give me an assignment that calls for it."

"You know I can't promise you that."

Rugo sighed and hung his head. "Whatever. What about my cover up?"

Ozpin grinned, "You will serve as the school's janitor and groundskeeper. We will play that you are working off your scholarship."

"What about my job at the dust shop? I can't just leave the old man after that incident with the gangster and the red hood girl. His business took a big hit."

The head master gave a smile, "Don't worry, I sent him a letter of apology explaining that you had a family emergency. As well as a generous donation for his recent financial setback."

Rugo nodded, "Thanks. The guy was good to me. And I appreciate the job too."

"I know how much you like to work."

"It makes me worth something."

Ozpin frowned at this statement. His son had always been hard on himself. Ever a since a certain "incident" involving a wealthy student at Beacon yelling at one of her baggage carriers.

"Well, at least it will make a good impression on the other students. A hard working, strapping young man." The professor slapped Rugo on the back, "Maybe get a couple looks from some of the young ladies."

Rugo shot a dirty look before turning back and pouting.

Ozpin smirked then let out a small laugh. This was going to be interesting, seeing the boy be a kid for the first time in a while.

"I'm not getting along with any bratty trust fund babies though."

Ozpin sighed. There was the kicker.

"At least be nice to them. One of those "trust fund babies" might become your teammate."

Rugo mumbled a dirty comment under his breath before stomping back into his dorm room. He turned around waving his arms out in angry gestures, "Why should you even let them into this school?! All those richies, all those brats, they do nothing but leach off the ones who actually work for a living! They're sick, they're ignorant, vile, stupid, worthless- OW!" His rant was interrupted by the headmaster's cane swiftly smacking him in the back of the head.

A lecture followed soon after, "Because in this war we need all the help we can get. Even from the children of the corrupt wealth. They may not be disciplined, but they can still fight."

Rugo growled and grumbled as he stormed off, "Yeah, sure, _fight_..."

The boy walked out, leaving his father concerned for exactly how well this might play out.


	3. Two more ends to the spectrum

An airship flew over a seemingly endless forest, carrying new students for Beacon Academy.

A muscular boy with olive drab army fatigues and combat boots, carrying an assault rifle on his back, looked over the landscape and to the academy in the distance. His dark hair was short, growing out from a buzz cut.

This was Michael Alexander Wenston, a descendant from the long running Wenston family. There was not much to tell about him, other than he practically grew up on a military base.

He was your typical control freak, often pushing his authority over others. It was understandable, considering he had been specifically bred for leadership roles.

Michael excelled in Grimm combat through the use of firearms, the only melee weapon he owned was a standard issue combat knife. And his martial arts training.

Standing on the airship, or anywhere in particular, people gave him a wide berth. He was a big kid, and used that to his advantage.

All of a sudden there was a commotion further up the ship, where a hologram of a woman was given an announcement to the new students.

* * *

Maree Baraeu stepped into the main courtyard of Beacon Academy, taking a deep breath and moving a strand of her dyed blue hair back.

The french girl had barely managed to make it into such a prestigious school, but she was the heart of her family's hopes. Her parents had been able to scramble just enough money to get her into her first school at Vraie Croix academy, where Maree made herself known for one area in particular. Grimm fighting.

Especially in the water, where she spent most of her free time either sailing, swimming, fishing, or tanning.

Maree wielded a trident, currently slung across her back, that could be set up as a mortar cannon. It was originally designed long ago for sea monsters of the Grimm, and has since been the most common weapon seen for french soldiers. It could could handle beasts of the ocean as well as provide artillery support for troops on land. This specific trident was given to her by her father, but due to his bad knee could no longer serve.

Maree's family had always been low on money, only ever able to make ends meet. No fun trips, very few holiday celebrations, and the only extravagance they owned was her dog Rumi. She'd found him as a stray, though.

At the center of the courtyard Maree noticed a tall fountain, and her eyes lit up with glee. "_Eau!_" She ran over and dipped her face into the cool liquid, drinking to her heart's content. Her head flew up, short hair flinging water everywhere. It dripped down, slightly soaking her outfit which consisted of a worn leather jacket over a white t-shirt. Below that she wore tan cargo shorts, slightly ripped at the edges, complimented by running shoes with long black socks. Most of her clothing was hand-me-down, but she wore it like a badge of honor.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing!"

* * *

Michael went up and confronted the small, frail looking boy with blue hair that had just defaced public property.

"Who, me?" He pointed to himself, and spoke with a heavy french accent.

"Yeah you." The boy got up in his face, staring him down, "This is a public fountain for aesthetic purposes only! Not a watering hole!"

The kid shrunk back shyly, "Uh... are you a cop?"

"No, I'm a soldier."

"Oh, well in that case..." He stood straight, gave a mock salute, then sprinted off in a flash.

Michael stood there stunned for a moment as he leapt up onto a wall, ran along its edge, swung from a lamp post, and disappeared behind a hedge.

"...what?"

* * *

Maree giggled as she landed on the soft grass. Whenever she was not in the ocean, she was in town. Pickpocketing and stealing for a morsel or coin or too, then escaping angry denizens or police men.

The girl sighed, "He was kinda cute, too." She took a step, then tripped over something squishy.

"Mmm..." Maree groaned and looked back to see that she had in fact landed on another girl, a scott she could tell. Her red curly hair bounced around as she shook her head and sat up, groaning. "_Diabhal é_, my head..." The scott opened her eyes to see Maree, and blushed slightly, "O-oh, a boy..."

The french girl stood up and puffed out her flat chest, "I'm a girl, _factice_!" The scott blushed even harder, "Oh! I'm sorry! You just don't look very...erm...feminine."

Maree's eye twitched a bit as she faced palmed, "Whatever. Here." She held out a hand and the red haired girl took it, standing up. "I'm Maree Baraeu. You?"

The scott cleared her throat, then gave a small curtsy, "Gaetana Wilson Clark Scott. A pleasure to meet you." Maree just noticed the heavy scottish brogue.

"Ew, you're not a richie are you?"

"A what?"

"Wealthy upper-class?"

"That's a bit complicated..." Gaetana scratched her head nervously.

Maree waved it off, "Whatever. Are you a student?"

The scott nodded gleefully, "Mhm! Are you?"

"Apparently." the frenchy replied rather hum-drum.

"How did you get in?"

Maree put on a wide grin, "I am here to make the Baraeu name known with respect and fear! And restore my father's honor!" She took a heroic pose.

Gaetana just sat there, "I asked how not why-WAH!"

Maree snatched up the red haired girl and pulled her close while looking over the horizon and gesturing with her hand outward, "And with my new side-kick, I have no chance of failure!"

"...side-kick?"

* * *

Rugo leaned against a dark corner in the auditorium of Beacon Academy, students gathering around the stage where a microphone stood. It would be about half an hour before Ozpin made his introductory speech, though.

Right now the boy was keeping an eye on the new students, seeing if any stood out as a possible team mate. Of course none of them did. He like working alone anyways.

All of a sudden a hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him out into view. "What the- Who the heck do you think you are?!"

A heavily built kid walked up to him, an assault rifle slung across his back. "I should ask you the same thing, as well as why you're sleuthing around."

Rugo spat at the comment, "Name's Rugo. And you'd best not think you can order me around."

"Michael Alexander Wenston. I outrank you tenfold. So yes, I can order you around."

Rugo let out a laugh, "You're military then, huh? Richie."

The insult infuriated Michael, and shoved his face into the defiant boy's, "You listen here, _punk_! You're going to do what I say and stop creepin' around or I'll have you arrested!"

Rugo growled and began to walk away, "Go ahead! See if I care!"

This act cause the soldier to pitch a fit, grabbing Rugo and turning him around, "Listen to me!"

Rugo slapped away the hand and grabbed Michael by his collar, "You listen to me! I don't know you, I don't care what you say, got it?" He gave a good shove and continued walking.

Michael clenched his fists and walked the opposite direction, but not before being smacked into and having his mouth stuffed with blue hair.

* * *

"Oh, my apologies sir!" Said Gaetana as she helped up Maree, who was still gnawing a piece of bread in her mouth.

"Om nom nom..." The girl chewed gleefully. "Hey that's my bread!" Came a voice from somewhere in the crowd.

This caused Maree's eyes to double in size before she grabbed Gaetana and took off.

Michael sat up, groaning. "How come no one listens to me? Wait was that the guy from earlier?"

He looked around frantically, but the boy was no where in sight.

Michael sighed, and stood up as Professor Ozpin stepped out onto the stage, followed by the same woman from the hologram earlier.

* * *

Rugo stood amongst the crowd, the hood of his flannel drawn up. Under it he now wore a grey tank-top.

His father walked up onto the stage, followed by his mother, Glenda Goodwitch. The two were not together, but they had served as parental figures earlier in his life. Both looked slightly off, Ozpin more so.

Rugo noticed the Michael kid further up in the crowd, and frowned. Why would dad bring someone like _him_ into the school?

* * *

Michael looked around as the headmaster gave his speech, and noticed that Rugo punk at the back of the crowd.

The soldier scoffed, how could that kid even get into any school?

He turned back to Professor Ozpin as the introductory speech was finished.


	4. Rival ends of the spectrum

Maree plopped down on a blanket she had "borrowed" from one of the boys over in the other section of bedrolls. She was stripped down to her under garments, which consisted of her shorts and her t-shirt. Next to her laid Gaetana in pajamas like the rest of the girls, which involved a thin green blouse that showed some skin. A lot of boys were giving her looks of interest, and Maree looks of jealousy.

"I'm a girl too, you cretins! Oi, Tana."

The scott looked up from her book, now used to her new nickname and friend, "Yes?"

"Whatcha readin?"

"Oh, well, this is an old scottish fable. It's called _Brave_." Tana held the big up to the frenchy. The girl on the cover looked strikingly similar to Tana, red hair and everything. She even held a bow, arrow ready.

"She looks like you."

Tana giggled, "Well, my mother would always tell me when I was a kid that this girl was an ancestor of mine. I never really believed it, but..."

Maree chuckled, "I don't know spit about my heritage. Your mum sounds nice though."

"Yeah, nice..."

Just then the boy they ran into from earlier, Michael something, strolled past. He did not notice Maree watching him carefully, waiting to bolt again. Other than his black briefs the kid wore a gray tight-fitting t-shirt over a muscular chest, where four dogtags hanging from a chain dangled. His attention was on another boy, though, whose bedroll sat somewhat away from the crowd. He was built like a lightweight, she could tell that from his bear chest, and wore a pair of blue jeans with boots instead of pajamas or underwear like the rest of the boys. His red-brown hair was messy, and his whole composure seemed... older.

It was then that Michael walked up behind him, and made the mistake of putting the guy in a head lock.

* * *

Yang Xiao Long looked over the hunks exposing some good looking muscle, her eyes strolling past a black haired kid messing with a red-brown haired kid. The black haired one had the other in a head lock, and she could not tell if it was friendly or if something was about to go down.

"I don't think dad would approve of all the boys, though."

"I know I do." She let out a seductive purr.

* * *

Rugo threw off Michael, now thoroughly ticked off. "Listen here, richie! I don't know what kind of problem you have with me but I can assure you you're making it _much_ bigger!"

The boy chuckled, "You punks are all the same. Think you're tough stuff, defying a superior officer?"

Rugo growled, "Don't test me, your upper-class tyrant!"

"Hah! If I'm a tyrant then you're an ass!"

"KID I'LL KICK YOUR'S SO HARD YOU'LL BE SQUEEZIN OUT MY TOENAILS FOR A WEEK"

"I'LL SHOVE MY FIST UP YOURS SO FAR I COULD WORK YOU LIKE A PUPPET"

"I'LL TEAR OUT YOUR HYPOTHETICAL SPINE-"

"ENOUGH!"

Both Rugo and Michael were silenced as a wand was thrust in between them. Holding it was Glenda Goodwitch. "Do you boys want to keep this up or avoid being detained?"

Michael backed off, recognizing an authority figure. "Apologies, professor."

Rugo held a stare with the huntress for a moment, but eventually backed away. "Sorry mom-OW!"

Michael gave a look of surprise as Glenda smacked the boy on the back of the head, "I thought I told you not to call me that in public!"

Rugo grumbled, "Apologies, professor..." He rubbed his throbbing head.

"And you!" Michael felt the wand poke him in the chest as he stumbled back, "If I catch you starting anymore fights I won't be so forgiving. You're lucky my son has a high pain threshold. Now shake hands, and be done with it."

Both boys sat there for a moment, Michael being the first to hold out his. Rugo took it.

Pain shot up Micheal's arm as the bones in his hand were almost crushed. He attempted to return the favor, but could not outmatch the immense strength boy wielded. Fortunately his training prevented him from backing down as he finished the hand shake.

Glenda nodded and "hmphed". "Now, I'll take my leave. You boys behave." She made her way out the door.

Rugo and Michael continued to stare at each other, hostility in their eyes, when a blue head popped up in between them. Two hands stuck up, each holding a piece of bread.

The boys looked down to see Maree, smiling as she chewed on a roll.

"You're that person from earlier, aren't you?" asked Michael.

She grinned, "The best way to make up is with food. Now take the bread."

Both of them hesitantly grabbed the bread, Rugo went in to take a bite but was smacked on the back of the head.

"Ow! Who are you, anyways? And why are you giving us bread?"

The girl swallowed her roll and licked her lips, "I'm Maree Baraeu, and I'm helping you at. Now give each other the bread."

Both boys hesitated for a bit, thinking that was a very odd name for a boy. "Give it!" shouted the frenchy, which prompted the two to hastily hand each other the loaves.

"Now eat it."

Rugo was the first, and opened a huge maw before burying his face into the loaf. Micheal took a small bite. Both immediately spit it out.

"Ugh! What _is_ this? It's like somewhat baked goose-poo with yeast!"

"Agreed. It's probably not very good for us too."

Maree smiled, "See! You both agreed on something!"

There was a moment of silence as the two boys looked at each other.

"Michael."

"Rugo."

The secondary introduction was short before they separated.

Maree sighed, "Well, that kinda worked." She went back to her bedroll and plopped down.

* * *

Rugo laid down against the wall in a dark corner, groaning as his joints complained. He was definitely not used to this kind of social interaction. But something else was on his mind.

His father's introductory speech was rather... dark. It was like he was not even there. He had seen his father write it down, and it was nothing like what was said. Was there something bothering him?

On top of that, who the heck was the french boy?

* * *

Tana watched from her spot as Maree laid back down. "What was that about?"

She sighed, "Ugh, just boys being boys. That military one was kinda cute though."

Tana giggled, "You're already crushing on a guy here?"

Maree blushed uncontrollably and chucked her pillow at her. "I'm not some swooning lass, richie!"

Tana giggled some more before putting on a look of confusion, "Richie?"

The frenchy stumbled, "Oh, um, sorry, I didn't mean to go that far."

Tana cocked her head, "What does it mean?"

"Oh, it's an insult."

"I could tell that much."

"Yeah, it's what you call rich people that have too much money than they deserve."

"Oh... Well my family's wealthy but you don't need to worry about that."

"Thank god, you're one of the good ones."

"..."

All of a sudden, the lights went out.


End file.
